


Give the Devil Her Dues

by ih3artgerm, tsukidrama



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dry Humping, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Making Out, Oral Sex, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29283663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ih3artgerm/pseuds/ih3artgerm, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukidrama/pseuds/tsukidrama
Summary: Steamy encounters with a certain Anti-Marleyan Volunteer escalate over time, and you're certainly not inclined to refuse a woman as determined as Yelena.
Relationships: Yelena (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader
Comments: 22
Kudos: 290





	Give the Devil Her Dues

**Author's Note:**

> this is another fic where i'm just like: i dont have any excuses for this one! 
> 
> just look at my tag for her on tumblr @tsukidrama and you'll know where my head's at

You’ve learned that with Yelena, you should expect the unexpected. From the very first time you laid eyes on her she had surprised you. She came into your life much like she came into the graces of the former Survey Corps - suddenly, with a loud bang and a flash of light. She stood heads above everyone around her, all long limbs and wide eyes. Yet instead of leaving you motionless on the bow of a ship, she takes the breath right out of your lungs with as little as a look. 

As soon as she sets her hooded gaze on you, she cracks a frenzied smile in your direction. Immediately you know that you’ve fallen for her hook, line, and sinker. Yelena knows her place well in the beginning, and does not so much as step a toe out of line or speak out of turn. She spends her days alongside Onyankopon meeting with the higher-ups of the military, presumably feeding them information. 

It only takes a few days for things to escalate. You stand guard at the edge of the military’s encampment that’s tucked away in the sand behind a large, craggy rock formation. Leaning back against one of the lower jutting boulders, you cross your arms as you watch Yelena and several others emerge from a tent. 

Hange and Levi walk off in one direction, while Onyankopon and Yelena go in the other. After a few steps, the tall woman stops and puts her hand on Onyankopon’s shoulder. She glances over at you as she speaks indistinctly, and your heart jumps to your throat. She laughs, nods, and the two parts ways. 

Yelena looks in either direction before she sticks her hands in her pockets and makes her way over to you. Something inside of your chest tightens as she comes closer and closer. She glances up at you with a sly smile that sends chills down your spine. 

“I was hoping I would get to see you again,” she says once she comes within your earshot. 

You shift your weight, and instinctively touch the gun at your belt. Yelena laughs and shakes her head, but stops walking forward. 

“What do you want?” you ask. You aren’t sure if you want her to keep her distance or not, despite the strange pull you feel to her. 

“I just want to talk,” she says, hands up in surrender. Her eyes are wide, her usual odd smile plastered across her face. “Is that okay?” 

It takes a moment for you to process her words, but after a few seconds, you nod. 

With her legs being as long as they are, it takes her only three steps to reach next to where you stand at the edge of the rocks, just a few meters from the shoreline. Yelena leans a shoulder against a large rock just a little over an arm’s reach away from you, and kicks up sand as she props one foot on her toes behind the other.

“So what do they call you?” she asks, crossing her arms to mirror you. You can’t help but feel unnerved as you fully realize the height difference between the two of you. Seeing her next to Captain Levi was one thing, but you realize that even still that you misjudged her as you find you have to tilt your head back to look at her face. 

Still smiling, she looks at you pointedly. “Do you have a name? Or do you just stand around looking sexy, holding a gun and not speaking to anyone?” 

Your cheeks flush, and you sputter out in surprise: “Wh-what? Sexy?” You shift your weight, and take a couple of steps back nervously. 

“Oh, so you  _ can  _ speak!” she exclaims, eyes widening further. “I was starting to think I would never get you alone.” 

“Why? You don’t have other priorities?” you ask. One of your hands tightens around the strap of your gun, and the other reaches for its butt. 

Yelena tilts her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You seem to have a lot to deal with, being interrogated by the Commander all day.”

Yelena does not argue with the terminology you use, and just grins wider in response. “That’s already been taken care of for tonight. I saw you looking at me earlier, and yesterday,” her eyes burn into you, and she adds “and the day we arrived in Paradis.” 

You look away, and stand up straight. Chills run down your spine, and your hands feel clammy. 

“Everyone was looking at you,” you say. “You caused a scene.”

Yelena chuckles, and looks down before turning her head off to the side. For a long moment, she stays quiet, and bites her bottom lip before her eyes move back to you. 

She exhales, and shakes her head. “Not like you were.” 

Yelena takes a step closer to you, and you instinctively back away. You make the mistake of stepping out of the view of the tents, and faster than you can take in what’s happening, she’s right up against you bending down with spindly arms outstretched. You’re trapped between her, the rocks, and the crashing waves, and the docks behind you. 

She pulls at the belt your gun is attached to, and your immediate instinct is to fight. She grabs your wrist when you try to intercept her hand and throws the belt off to the side, and the gun falls into the sand noiselessly. You freeze where you stand, paralyzed by a strange mixture of attraction and intimidation. 

The hand that isn’t around your wrist lightly touches your cheek. You shudder, and though you aren’t relaxed, the feeling of imminent danger has dissipated. The look on her face is still unnerving, but your intrigue and the heaviness in your gut keeps you rooted in place as she closes the gap between you. 

You remember the way Yelena pulls your head to the side to kiss your neck, and how she nearly lifts you off of your feet as she readjusts to envelop you more fully. Any hesitation you had felt disappears as her long arms wrap around your body. She bends down, nearly hunching over to press her lips into yours fervently. A thin-fingered hook in the strands of your hair, and the other digs into your arm to draw you closer. 

Your arms wrap around her neck, and you rise up on your toes to try and make up for the height difference between you. Balance fails you, and you stumble backwards to crash against the other side of the rock. The sharp edges dig into your skin but you ignore it as your legs fail you, and your back is scratched as you slide downward out of her embrace. 

Yelena is on top of you the second your ass hits the sand, swinging one spindly leg over you to straddle your lap. One of her forearms braces against the rock above your head for support. You yank her by the jacket back into a sloppy kiss, your hands scrambling at her chest desperately in search of buttons. You can’t find any, frustratingly. 

The wind blows her hair out of her face, and the both of you shiver. Yet when she notices your struggle, she looks down and laughs, then reaches for a small bit of metal in the middle of her collar. She pulls it down, and the jacket comes apart as she zips it down with a metallic zing. Yelena shakes the jacket down her shoulders, to reveal just an undershirt beneath it. In an instant she’s back on you, and you’re lost to the sensations of her skin against yours as she pushes off your jacket as well. 

Everything after that was a whirlwind of lips and tongues, bumping noses and heavy breathing. Your memory blurs, and all you can remember is that Yelena’s hands wander without asking permission - though if she asked you would have given it in a heartbeat. Bony fingers press into soft and sensitive flesh, and she kisses you deeply while pinning you to the rock beneath you. 

When her hands wander upward again her fingertips slip ever so slightly underneath the collar of your shirt to touch your shoulder, and it sets your nerves alight with sensation. As quickly as the pressure comes, it goes. The usual grin returns to her face, and she sits back on her ankles. 

“I’ll see you later, okay? Another time.”

She picks up her jacket from where she let it fall, and rises to her feet. You sit there breathless as she looks down at you, and you aren’t sure how long you stay there looking at one another before she finally leaves you alone in the sand. You can finally breathe in fully after she finally leaves without another word, and you clutch your chest as you gasp for air. Her voice echoes in your ears, and her touch is seared into your skin. 

Later that night, with a burning desire still raging inside of you, you go to sit in the grass just a stone’s throw away from the encampment. You turn your boots upside down to dump out the sand, and knock them against the ground. You brush off what you can from your clothes, and try to unstick the granules from your skin without success. When you see Yelena the next morning, she grins widely at you from a distance, but it’s several weeks until you see her again up close. 

Every time you see her brings your body to the edge. More often than not, she’s accompanied by somebody else, whether it be Onyonkapon or one of the military higher-ups if not both. Weeks turn into months, and while you see her in passing, you don’t get to be alone with her for more than a few seconds. Every passing glance twists your stomach in knots, and the two or three times where she winks at you leave you flustered beyond what should be reasonable. 

The closest you get to conversation is prolonged eye contact, and the one time she does speak to you all she says is an insincere “excuse me” after intentionally walking so close to you that she bumps your shoulder. 

Yelena’s gaze burns into you every time she enters a room. Her dark eyes widen when she sees you, and the corner of her lips twitch upward. It grows into a full blown grin the longer she’s around you, or when she can sense your visible reaction to her. When she passes you in the hallway, she steals glances with you and on more than one occasion, goes as far to touch your shoulder in passing. 

Nearly two months after the night on the beach, you’re on guard duty at the first level underground in the Shiganshina district headquarters building when you encounter Yelena alone again. You stand upright, though not with the posture you know you’re supposed to be maintaining. As soon as you hear footsteps, you straighten to full attention. 

As soon as she rounds the corner, Yelena freezes. She smiles, in a way that at this point has grown familiar to you. She glances back the way she came, and then resumes walking toward you, faster this time. Your heartbeat quickens as she comes closer and you find yourself fighting the urge to reach for your gun again. 

Yelena is fast, and she’s on you before you know it once again grabbing your wrist to stop you. She reaches for the gun, but before she can grab it from you, you shake the strap off of your shoulder and drop it off to the side. 

“It’s off, okay?” you sputter, throwing your hands up in your own defense, and in the process shaking her hand off of you. Yelena holds it to her chest as if it were burned. 

“You can’t blame me for wanting to get it out of our way” she pouts, “I’m worried that you’ll go trigger-happy on me the way you’re always clutching that thing.” 

“Would you blame me? You’re always staring at me like you’re going to eat me.” You can’t help but glance at the gun again where it lies on the floor as her eyes bore into you hungrily. The bags underneath her eyes look more pronounced in the firelight. 

“Oh,” Yelena muses, and her eyes crinkle as her grin widens, “I would if I could.” 

Her words go straight to your gut, and you feel your insides twist. You squirm, and suddenly can’t decide whether to take a step closer to or away from her. 

“Well, comments like that certainly don’t help,” you mutter, and shiver. 

Yelena exhales, and sticks her hands in her pockets. Her smile fades, but the wild-eye amusement never leaves her expression. “I’ll leave if you want me to.” 

“No,” you say immediately, for reasons you aren’t able to elaborate on, “don’t.” 

Her smile twitches back into existence. “What’s that?” 

“Don’t leave.” you plead, and pull her into you so hard that it causes you to take a step back as well, and your back hits the wall. You remember the feeling of the rock scraping against your back at the beach, and you’re grateful that the walls aren’t quite so jagged. 

Yelena takes a step closer to you, and suddenly she’s right in front of you with one arm snaking around your shoulder. She slumps down to bring her face to your height, and hovers her lips above yours just long enough to leave you feeling agonized before she finally kisses you. As soon as her lips meet yours, you feel yourself being spurred into action. 

Your hands scramble for purchase on her shoulders, and you end up resting your wrists above her collarbone, your fingers cupping her jaw from below. This time you don’t try to rise higher than you can manage, but the kiss deepens regardless as Yelena bends down further. Her other hand reaches inside your jacket to feel you up over your uniform shirt. 

It feels like time stands still as you kiss her there in the corridor, and you would be fine if you stayed in that moment forever. Feeling brave, you swipe your tongue against her bottom lip. Yelena responds instantly, and her own darts out to swirl around yours. The unexpected move catches you off guard, and you accidentally break away from her to gasp. 

Yelena doesn’t stop, and begins to kiss down your jaw. “You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” she whispers in your ear, her tongue flicking across your earlobe. Her thumb moves purposefully over your nipple, and even through the fabric it makes you whimper. 

“What makes you say that?” you say, trembling. 

She shakes her head, and lets out a short chuckle. “You’re way more into this than you were that night on the beach.” 

“That night you hadn’t been staring at me almost every day for two months.” 

Yelena leans down to kiss you again, more aggressively this time. One hand rests on your shoulder now, while the other undoes the top button of your shirt, and then another. Her fingers wander over the newly exposed skin, dipping between the valley of your breasts. Another button pops open, and she slips her hand fully beneath the fabric of your shirt. She looks up at you when your breath hitches. 

You breathe hard, and pull at her collar. “It took you long enough to find me alone again,” you whisper, more desperately than you would like to admit. 

“It’s hard to get away from your Commander Hange and that Levi Ackerman,” she replies, her fingers still moving, “besides, how am I supposed to know where to find you?” 

“You can find me right here. I’m always assigned here,” you blurt, and as soon as you say it, you wish you hadn’t. A lump forms in your throat. 

Yelena smiles again, devilishly. “Yeah? When?” 

You clear your throat, but the lump stays lodged in your windpipe. No turning back now, and you know you can’t resist her with her hand down your shirt. 

“Every weekday this month, until my new assignment comes in,” you tell her. 

When she lifts her hand to stroke your cheek, just as she had before on the beach, your heart beats loudly in your ears at the sensation. All rational thought leaves your brain, and you find yourself leaning into her touch. The backs of her short nails trace against your jawline, and then back down the front of your shirt again. 

“And where can I find you once your new assignment comes in?” she asks, far too casually for the way she’s caressing you. She dips her head to kiss the base of your jawline, right above the curve of your neck. 

A shiver wracks through your body, and your hand instinctively flies to cover hers gently enough to not interrupt her movements. Something inside of you burns, and a heaviness throbs deep in your abdomen. 

“I’ll let you know as soon as I find out,” you manage to say in response, “but the Survey Corps goes where Commander Hange goes.” 

Yelena kisses behind your ear, and slips her fingertips under the line of your bra. “I seem to be doing the same, so I expect I’ll be seeing a lot of you,” she says, and her fingers finally reach your nipple, “good.” Yelena smiles into your neck, and pulls you by your face into another kiss. 

Any noises you make are blocked from echoing the halls by her body shielding you. This time, you know to pull at the metal tab at the top of her collar, and the metal nubs securing the jacket unlock. You push it off her shoulders, and as it falls to the ground, Yelena readjusts her stance so that one of her legs is slotted between yours. 

You gasp at the sudden pressure between your thighs and you’re humiliated when your first instinct is to grind down into her. One of your arm wraps around her neck now that you’re no longer blocked by that high collar, and you kiss her like you’ll never be able to again. You can feel her smiling against your lips, and you can feel her smile widen at the reaction you have when she tweaks your nipple between her fingers. 

“Now I’m starting to wish I had ditched Hange weeks ago,” Yelena mutters into you. Her leg moves, and it sends a jolt of electricity up into you. 

You can’t muster anything in response, so you just whine and grind your hips down shamefully onto her leg. Her fingers circle your nipple lightly and she kisses you again, this time pushing her tongue past your lips. Your free hand shakily wanders to touch her chest -- lean and fit, somewhat muscular, with no bra between her small breasts and the thin shirt your hand grasps. 

The way she’s touching you incapacitates you beyond any autonomy you might’ve had when your brain wasn’t muddled by lust and if you’re being honest, shock at finding yourself in such a position once again with Yelena. 

She kisses you for so long that your breath begins to run out, and you only break away to gasp for air. While you inhale, Yelena doesn’t stop, moving down your chin and jaw with open-mouthed kisses. She runs her teeth along the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Her other hand drops between the two of you. 

An audible cry leaves your lips when her hand slithers between you and her thigh. Your grip around her neck tightens, and your head cracks against the stone wall behind you. She strokes you through your clothes, so the feeling is dull and muted, but it’s enough to leave you panting and writhing beneath her. 

The hand on your breast slides out from your bra, though Yelena cups it once more before she lets her hands wander again. Over and under your bra, popping another button as she reaches farther down to tickle your now-exposed stomach. 

She uses her knee as leverage to press her fingers against you. She’s barely applying any pressure, and the lack of any real stimulation is beginning to get you more worked up than you would care to admit. Yelena can sense this, but instead of indulging you she continues to feel you up and kiss your neck. 

Her tongue runs from the hollow of your throat to the skin behind your ear. The whole way up, your fingernails twist in her shirt, and you desperately thrust your hips down against her. With you in control, you’re able to find an angle that gives you that toe-curling stimulation you were looking for. 

“Yes,” you breathe, fingers in her hair, “right there.”

Frustratingly (though later when you think back on it, you are not surprised), after a few seconds of contact, Yelena pulls her fingers away. You squirm against her knee for any kind of friction, but she soon takes that away as well. She kisses your neck one last time, and then pulls away from you. 

“No,” you say, your voice shaking. “Wha -- Why?” Your arms stay around her neck, but as she stands you slide downward even though you try to stay as high on your toes as you can. 

Her usual devious smirk is missing, and instead just one corner of her lips twitches up, softly. She touches your wrists gently before she stands to her full height. You lose your grip on her, and your hands rest on her collarbones. Disappointed, you drop your arms to your sides. You pout your lip at her, huffing. 

Yelena laughs in response. “I’ve got to leave you wanting more, don’t I? Now you have something to look forward to next time.” 

You whine, in need and in frustration. “Don’t go,” you plead. You try to cover yourself, and feel your face getting hot. Your chest aches, and you pray that it’s only because you want her physically. And oh, do you want her. 

“Another time,” is all she says. Her eyes rake over you one last time, burning into your skin, especially when her focus lingers on the parts of you she had undressed. A long beat passes as she drinks up the sight of your body, almost giddily. The softness fades from her expression. 

Her eyes snap up to meet yours, and her mouth opens as she grins. You want to ask her to stay again, but when she steps back and picks up her jacket from where it fell, you know that nothing you say will change her mind. She looks down at you one last time before she goes back in the opposite direction from which she came with a bounce in her step that wasn’t there before. 

Yelena doesn’t look back at you again as she walks down the hallway. She puts her jacket back on, and sighs before she turns down the hallway and out of sight. You press your fingers to your neck to feel your heartbeat, which pounds far faster and quicker than usually for long after she’s gone. 

After her footsteps echo into the distance, you pull your hair down to cover the marks on your neck and try to straighten out your clothes as best you can. You’re hyper-aware of the cold air against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of her lips and hands. The feeling of her touch lingers against you, and your fingers trace over where her lips had pressed against your neck. It aches without her. 

You shiver, and your hips squirm as you try to stand up straight again. Thankfully, you don’t encounter anyone else for the rest of your watch, aside from the soldier who comes to relieve you of your duty. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, and you hastily rush off to the bathroom to gather yourself once more. 

Six times over the next month does she saunter down the hallway in the dead of night. Each time, you’re filled with shame as you let her do what she wants with you, and overwhelming relief when you get off on it. She makes you come the very next time she comes to see you, and uses her tongue to do it the time after that. The fourth time, you’re exhilarated when you find that she’s willing to let you return the favor, when you hesitantly hooked your fingers in the waistband of her pants, and she unfastens them more quickly than you anticipated she would with a longing sigh. 

She’s so tall and thin that her pants slip down her waist with ease, and you’re delighted to find that you’re at a surprisingly convenient height to reach right where you need to be. Yelena moves on her own as much as you expect her to. She leans into your touch in a way that makes you ache. At some point, she tilts her hips to encourage you to slip your fingers inside. You remember the way she touched you before, and you crook your fingers inside of her the same way — you’re surprised when you elicit surprisingly gentle noises from the otherwise looming, borderline threatening woman. 

Yelena lets you touch her with far more excitement than you anticipate, and it makes you feel a surge of power each time she lets you touch her so intimately, and lets herself be in such a vulnerable position with you. It’s only fair, of course, considering how often you let her take control. 

She lets you go down on her the fifth time you hook up, when it’s so late that everyone else is dead asleep or passed out drunk, with the both of you locked in a supply closet for good measure. You can tell she’s nervous, and you are, too. It takes a moment for you to find the right way to prod your tongue against her, or how to swivel your tongue over her clit in ways that make her fingers tighten in your hair so hard that it almost hurts. You look up annoyed, but decide that you don’t mind when you look up and see the way her face is furrowed in pleasure. 

Yelena comes harder than you had ever seen her up until that point, and afterwards she kisses you with more passion than she ever had before. She can’t quite look you in the eye for a few days afterward, and she waits until the night before you leave to visit you again -- and (to your delight) lets you go down on her once again. 

The next assignment you have takes you (and the Commander, and the rest of the former Survey Corps) to Trost for the next two weeks. As Yelena had expected, she and Onyankopon accompany the lot of you. Even still she remains under the watchful eye of the military, and even as your trysts with her become more frequent over time, you can’t bring yourself to keep your eyes closed around her for too long. 

Late-night rendezvous in empty hallways you’re meant to be patrolling, or being unexpectedly pulled into a storage closet became commonplace occurrences for you in the next few months. Twice a week becomes three times a week, and over time you begin to see each other several days in a row. You never quite have the time to sneak away every day of the week, but you can generally expect a surprise when you aren’t looking for it, and often enough that it keeps you on your toes. At first, your heart never leaves your throat, but over time you begin to look forward to the way you get to see her at the most unexpected of times. 

Yelena is fond of the more public places she chooses to take you, like bathrooms or anywhere near heavily trafficked areas. Despite the embarrassment and the risk of being caught, you find yourself getting a certain thrill out of the danger of the situation. After all, wasn’t that same idea behind your attraction to Yelena?

You find yourself looking forward to seeing her all the time, and lying awake feeling empty on the days you didn’t have her fingers or her mouth against you. Sometimes you try and touch yourself, but it isn’t the same. Even if you come, it doesn’t leave you with the same feelings of contentment and the satisfaction of knowing that she desires you. You sleep shallowly and wake up desperate to seek Yelena out the next day yourself, despite the fact that you know she likes to be the one to seek you out. 

One day, after a morning that began on a sexually frustrated note as described, you find yourself walking slowly past anywhere that she might be lurking in the hopes that she might be waiting for you. Blessedly, while you’re on your way to the weapons stockroom, you hear a wooden door creak. You freeze, and smile when you feel the familiar tugging of long fingers at the back of your jacket, and you’re gently pulled backward. You lean into her touch as you let yourself be guided backwards through the door frame. 

This time, Yelena had pulled you into an otherwise empty stairwell. Though it isn’t dark by any means, the torches and dingy windows at each level leave the area more dim than the hallway you had just left. You find yourself pressed up against the stone wall beside the door with your heartbeat quickening in your chest. Yelena sits with one of her feet on a lower step to meet your height as she kisses you hard. 

“I’ve been looking for you all day,” she says into your lips. Her teeth clack against yours, and you unsurprisingly already feel her tongue prodding for access. Your head tilts to give it to her, and you melt when you feel Yelena taking control of the kiss. Her hands wander up the front of your body, cupping your breasts insistently as her tongue swirls around yours. 

She shifts her stance to shift a leg between your thigh, but before she can slot it upwards against you, you slip away out of her grasp. Something hot and dangerous bubbles inside of you. You breathe heavily, and work on shirking your jacket from your shoulders. 

“All day? It’s not even 3pm yet,” you chastise playfully, yet despite your teasing you still find your hands shaking as you set down your gun on one of the steps of the ascending staircase, and tossing your jacket atop it as well. You pull your shirt out from where it’s tucked in. 

“I don’t see you hesitating,” Yelena shoots back. She unzips her jacket as well and drops it on the staircase behind her. 

“Well, no.” You smirk back at her, and unbutton the first two buttons of your shirt. Her eyes stare daggers into you. A wave of heat washes over you, and you become so much more aware of your own body than you had been moments before. 

Yelena smiles dryly in satisfaction when she notices that you preemptively unbuckle the fastening above your chest and the belt at your waist. 

“You look fucking delicious,” she murmurs, and hooks one of her fingers in the belt loop of your pants to pull you back over to her. 

Something deep inside of you burns with desire, and you readily lean back into her embrace. Yelena kisses you with a renewed passion, and her hands wander to unfasten the clasp of your pants. Your breath hitches as her fingers slip down the front. 

You squirm against her, and desperately work at loosening the belt around your waist so she can reach you better. “This isn’t a very well hidden place. You should have found another storage closet.” She chuckles, and two of her fingers press just so that it puts pressure on your clit, and kisses your forehead as you dig your face into her shoulder. 

“Would you like to find somewhere else?” she asks nonchalantly. The hand that isn’t between your legs gropes at your chest and runs down your sides. She kisses you deeply, and catches your bottom lip between her teeth. You gasp, and shudder against her. 

Yelena buries her face into your neck, and breathes in deeply the smell of your hair. “Something tells me it would draw more attention for us to walk around the hallway half-naked than for me to take care of you right here.” 

She has a point, but you can’t help but be filled with horror and shame at the idea of being caught in such a compromising position in such a public place no matter what the scenario leading up to it is like. 

“I’m worried someone might come in. On a different floor,” you huff, breathless. Finally, your pants fall around your thighs, and Yelena pulls the belt from around your hips and discards it off to the side. Her hand slides between your thighs freely, and you melt into her touch shamelessly. 

“Do you doubt me?” she whispers, her voice a low growl in your ear, “As long as you manage to keep yourself quiet nobody will suspect a thing.” Her fingers slip under the fabric of your panties from the side, and up through the wetness that’s gathered to find the bud of your clit. 

A low moan escapes you, and you immediately press your lips together. Yelena shoots you a harsh look, and for a moment, slows the rhythm she had just begun to find. Her fingers glide a hair breadth above your clit, hovering painfully close but so far at the same time. 

“Can you do that?” she asks, looking in your eyes. “Can you keep yourself quiet?” 

You squirm, and buck your hips into her. 

“I can. I will.” you beg, and your only wish in that moment is for her to touch you again. 

Something flickers behind her eyes at the desperation in your voice, and her fingers begin to move against you once again. She focuses on your clit, two of her fingers drawing tight circles on the sensitive bud. You stifle a whimper, but don’t allow yourself to make any audible noise. 

Yelena’s smile widens, and her hunger in her gaze becomes even more apparent than it already was. “We’ll be done and back where we need to be before anyone notices that we’re gone.” 

You whimper, and you wrap your arms around her neck to press your forehead to hers. “What if I want to do something for you too?” you plead, though your voice hiccups as you speak. 

“Another time,” Yelena murmurs, and plants a kiss on the corner of your lips, “I want to make you feel good.” She accentuates this by swirling her fingers around your clit purposefully, rubbing that spot that made you see stars  _ just right _ . 

You squirm in her arms, and lean forward to sloppily kiss her. She kisses you back, albeit briefly, and then crawls down your body, dropping to her knees on steps below you. She pulls your hips forward so that you’re sitting on the top step, elbows on the landing. Neither of you bother with the straps on your legs, and Yelena just yanks the pants as far down your legs as they’ll go, hooked around your knees. 

“Me too,” you say, and desperately try to hold in the noises that build in the back of your throat. “I want to make you feel good, too.” She pushes your thighs apart, and despite your embarrassment, you shift your hips to make room for her. 

Yelena’s smile grows openly devious as she lifts your legs and hooks them over her shoulders. She crouches to stick her head through your thighs from the bottom, diving right underneath where your clothes bunches. The straps and buckles around your shins clink loudly and hit her back rather hard, but if she even notices, she doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Later,” Yelena says dismissively, tracing her thumbs along the inside of your thigh as she looks between them. You whine again, humiliated, and your hips freeze up. Yelena looks up, and her gaze softens when she meets yours. 

She leans in, but only to press a kiss against the inside of your thigh. “Can I visit you later after you’re off duty?” she asks. 

You bite your lip, and feel yourself further flushing. “Only if you promise to let me make it up to you,” you insist, nodding. 

“I promise,” she nods, and squeezes your leg gently, “Okay?” Her thumb brushes closer to the center of your thighs, and you feel yourself melting beneath her once again. 

“Okay,” you repeat, and once again you’re overwhelmed with the desire for her to touch you. 

She leans back in to kiss your other thigh. “So can I eat you out now, or do you want to keep talking?” The vibrations from her voice ripple across your skin, and the rumbling in her throat sends something deep into you. It feels like she’s intentionally torturing you. 

“You can go,” you quickly answer, and without trying to hide how much you want it.. Hunger flashes across Yelena’s expression, and as soon as the words leave your mouth, her head dips between your thighs. Immediately her tongue swipes up against you - reflexively, your thighs twitch. You bite down the moan that threatens to burst from you, your toes curling in your boots. 

Soft, wet heat curls inside of you as Yelena’s tongue glides up the length of you. She spreads your wetness around as she does, and it lets her slip right up against your clit. Your legs fall apart as wide as they possibly can, and you feel like you’re going to melt, and drip down the stairs in a puddle of goo. 

Her tongue is impossibly soft, and at this point, she knows exactly what you like. She licks you from the bottom of your soaked opening to the top of your clit, where she focuses most of her attention. You stifle a moan and try to angle your hips so that her tongue goes inside of you.

Cruelly, she holds your hips in place and continues to lick your clit. As good as it feels, you want more. You can’t stop yourself from whining in need. As soon as the noise leaves your throat, she slows the movement of her tongue, and finally lifts her head. She shifts a little, and one of her hands leaves your hips. 

Two of her fingers prod at your entrance, soaking wet from her previous teasing. They easily slip inside as soon as she presses into you, though she doesn’t give you the satisfaction of pushing them in all the way. You can’t move your hips without moving out of her tongue’s range, and nothing in the world could tear you away at this point. She knows this, and you can feel her lips curling into a smirk against you as she smarmily acknowledges the power she holds. 

She pulls her fingers out slowly, and pushes them back in even slower. It’s agonizing, and all you want to do is beg, and plead with her to give you what you want. You know she won’t fuck you the way you want her to if you make more noise than necessary, so you bite down on your lip even harder to keep quiet. 

Yelena moans against you in approval, and the vibrations her voice sends through you leave you dripping. Her fingers move gently inside of you, slipping in deeper with the newfound slickness. A whimper dies in your throat as she continues to thrust inside of you — well-angled and purposeful enough to stir up excitement deep in your gut, but too shallow to fill the gnawing emptiness inside of you. 

Finally, she pushes them in until she crooks her fingertips inside of you. You inhale sharply when sparks fly in your abdomen, and you grind down against her instinctually. Her fingers twitch inside of you. Fingertips prod and curve inside of you as she feels along the top of your inner walls, searching for your g-spot. She pushes forward just a little farther, and bends her middle finger. 

Thighs shaking, you can’t help but gasp. The noise echoes throughout the stairwell, and you slap your hand against your mouth to hold back the noises. You struggle to catch your breath, eyes rolling back into your head as Yelena moves her fingers in and out. Her pace is still so slow that you’re muffling audible, and every time she presses that one spot your vision goes black. 

Biting your lip doesn’t work, so you shove your knuckles in your mouth to bite them instead. It muffles the sounds of your ragged breathing and suppressed moans more effectively, though they’re still much more audible than you intend for them to be. 

Thankfully, Yelena doesn’t withhold anything from you despite how loud you’re being. The pace of her fingers speeds up inside of you, and with every stroke it leaves you squirming and twisting beneath her. Her tongue never stops its soft ministrations against your clit, and the combined stimulation brings back that dangerous feeling inside of you ten times the force of what it was before. 

Your feet twitch again, and one foot involuntarily kicks outward, then comes back to thud against her back. You gasp again, this time in horror, and think of the hard soles of your boots and what that must feel like for her. Your eyes fly open, and you scramble to push Yelena down off of you. 

“Did I hurt you?” you mumble, louder than you meant to. You inhale shakily before biting back down on your knuckles. 

“No. Shh,” Yelena hisses. She barely lifts her head from between your thighs, but looks up at you intently, “I told you to be quiet.” Her fingers twitch inside of you. 

A moan escapes you, and you bite down hard when you can’t hold it back. Yelena glares at you, demanding an explanation. 

You nod hastily. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, desperately trying to quiet yourself. You can’t offer an excuse. Your fingers burn where your teeth dig into them, but you’re so close that you would rather be left with teeth marks than be denied release at this point. 

Instead of giving you a response, Yelena dives back in between your legs. Her fingers slide in at a new angle -- though she is careful not to lose track of your g-spot, and her fingertips rub at it relentlessly. You’re humiliated at the wet noises her fingers draw out from you, and at the slurping noises from her mouth that you  _ know _ she’s exaggerating just to fluster you. 

She can tell that you’re close when your thighs start to tremble once again, and she responds in kind. Her fingers speed up inside you, and the pressure inside of you builds towards a peak. Her tongue rolls across your clit deftly and with a precision that makes your back arch into the air. Your hands dig into the stone staircase as you try to ground yourself. 

Yelena’s fingertips twitch inside of you again, and finally, you feel your body tense up until it snaps like a rubber band. You come hard around her fingers with your thighs quaking. More wetness gushes out of you, and you don’t stop shaking for as long as her tongue and fingers wring out the last spasms from your body. 

After several long moments, once your breathing has become more regular, Yelena’s fingers slip out. You moan softly into your knuckles and relax your jaw. Your hand aches where your teeth left angry red marks, and your cunt aches from the withdrawal of her fingers. Thankfully, her tongue continues moving against you. Your hips twitch a few more times as she licks you, and you gasp as she laps up the majority of your wetness. 

She lifts her head, and your head drops backward while you sigh. Yelena’s usual smile stretches wider than usual. A chuckle rumbles in her throat, and she brings her still-glistening fingers to her mouth to lick the moisture from them. Your cheeks burn, and you avert your eyes. Your body reacts to the gesture, despite your embarrassment. 

Yelena ducks down between your thighs, and you lift them to help her get free. Your legs land off to the side, and when you manage to sit up, you try your best to pull your pants back up your legs. You get them up about halfway before you notice Yelena is staring at you. 

You look up at her, and goosebumps travel down your spine when you see the look on her face. She casually wipes her hand on her shirt before leaning down to pick up her jacket and drape it over her arm. 

“You did good,” she says finally. Her words come as a surprise to you, and to your shame, your blush darkens. 

“Thanks,” you stammer, and you go back to trying to pull up your pants. The straps make it difficult, but when you yank hard enough, the fabric slides up your skin. You don’t bother to adjust your underwear to be comfortable, and just fasten the buckle. 

Yelena leans down to pick up your belt, and hands it to you. “I mean it. Where can I find you tonight?” she says, arm outstretched. 

You take the belt from her, and shakily run it through the loops as you speak. “How about the storage closet on the third floor? The one by the empty classrooms.”

“I’ll be there. Tell me what time.” Yelena leans back to rest against the wall, and tilts her head at you inquisitively. 

You smile, and your breath catches in your throat. “Let’s meet at midnight,” you tell her. 

“Midnight. Got it.” Her eyes practically sparkle, and she nods. Biting her lip, she climbs a step on the staircase to be closer to you. You look up at her to find her closer than you thought she was. Before you know it, her hands are on your waist pulling you closer.

You want it just as badly as she does, and you’re pretty sure you’re the one who actually initiates the kiss this time. Yelena stays like that for a moment, and in the back of your mind it occurs to you that this is the longest she’s stayed with you after she’s touched you. You allow yourself to get lost in her and the way she makes you feel for a fleeting and wistful moment. 

As always, it comes to an end. It’s always the same abrupt and disheartening end every time she finally pulls away from that last kiss. The mania in her expression calms for a moment, and something flickers behind her eyes. Yelena tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and lays her hand on your shoulder. She straightens your collar, but her hand lingers for too long for that to be why she touched you. 

Then, as quickly as she drew you into the stairwell, Yelena bounds past you up the staircase two steps at a time. She steps over your discarded jacket and gun, and only looks back when she nears the top of the steps. 

She shoots you one last provocative look before she disappears out of sight. 

As always, you’re left alone fixing your rumpled clothing. You do your best to make yourself look presentable, and shake out your hair in a (likely unsuccessful) attempt to collect yourself. You sit on the steps for a moment to gather your bearings. 

You have learned that with Yelena to expect the unexpected. Yet somehow, every time you’re still left with a dark thrill after every encounter the two of your have, and every time you fuck her, you’re reminded of how unprepared you were for what you would be getting yourself into the first time you saw her. Even the night on the beach you couldn’t have predicted the way she would make you feel, or the things she would  _ make  _ you feel. 

You put on your jacket, and shake your head as if that will clear the thoughts from your brain. With a sigh and a slight readjustment of your belt, you contemplate what the hell you’re doing to do from now until midnight. 


End file.
